je t’aime

I must have looked ridiculous to her.
With my makeshift, superglue-medical taped glasses continuously sliding down my nose, I was singing every word on the ABBA record in one moment, then rocking out to the Rolling Stones in the next.

She seemed shifted away from me in the passenger seat, leaning her back into the window to get the best look at me as I drove. I’m not sure if it was a look of amusement or horror that was splayed across her face, as I was too busy dancing and driving and trying to keep my glasses on my face – adding another activity to the mix would have just been dangerous.
But she’s still here, so I must not have frightened her so badly.
Yesterday, in her broken, halting English she told me “I very very not want lose you.” I didn’t know what to say, because losing people seems to be the nature of life isn’t it? And I want to make a habit of not breaking promises.

So, I wrote her a letter about love. In it, I tried to explain to her why I was having such a hard time expressing my feelings towards her. I wanted her to understand that, when she told me she loved me, the fact that I couldn’t respond in the way that she wanted wasn’t a reflection on how much I cared for her – rather a reflection on how much I don’t really understand love anymore.

I wrote about how much I miss her when she’s gone even for a moment – not because I’m needy, rather because I love every second she is around me.
I wrote about how every word she says makes me smile, even when I don’t understand it.
I wrote about how I would want to take all the pain from her life, throw it in the back seat with the rest of my baggage, and take it to the dump together. 
I wrote about how her smile changes my whole day.
I wrote about how much I love learning every little  thing about her.
I wrote about how comforting it was to have her championing me every step of the way.
I wrote about the times when I would make trips to the office at work just so I could sneak a peak at her on the security monitors (okay- creepy I know).
I just wanted her to know exactly how much she meant to me without having to laden it down with a word that doesn’t seem to mean much to anyone anymore.

But, something happened when I signed off the letter with a gigantic, flourishing “Raff” and read back over what I had written.
As I glanced back over the letter, I thought, maybe that’s just how love is. Waxing and waning like a moon.
It grows into its splendor then wanes to near nothingness – and you think that maybe the sky will never be bright again, but the sky does get bright again. And hell, every once in a while you might even get a super moon. Maybe love’s failings don’t mean that it doesn’t exist – just that it needs time to grow again.
All these things I was writing to her, if I wanted love – that’s what I would want it to be.
And so I didn’t give her the letter.
I just told her.
je t’aime
I love you.


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